rer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

ANTHEA--

Now is the time when all the lights wax dim,
And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him
Who was thy servant. Dearest, bury me
Under the holy-oak or gospel tree;...
Or, for mine honour, lay me in that tomb
In which thy sacred relics shall have room:
For my embalming, sweetest, there will be
No spices wanting when I'm laid by thee.

--HERRICK (_Hesperides_).

V. NICK BOTTOM 43

BOT. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanac; find out
moonshine, find out moonshine.

--_A Midsummer Night's Dream_, Act III., Sc. i.

VI. SLEEPING BEAUTY

VII. & VIII. LEMUEL GULLIVER

I must freely confess that since my last return some corruptions
of my Yahoo nature have revived in me, by conversing with a few of
your species, and particularly those of my own family, by an
unavoidable necessity; else I should never have attempted so
absurd a project as that of reforming the Yahoo race in this
kingdom: but I have done with all such visionary schemes for
ever.--_Gulliver's Letter to his Cousin._

The first money I laid out was to buy two young stone horses,
which I kept in a good stable, and next to them the groom is my
greatest favourite; for I feel my spirits revived by the smell he
contracts in the stable.

--SWIFT (_A Voyage to the Houyhnhnms_, Ch. xi.).

IX. & X. MISTRUST, OBSTINATE, LIAR, ETC.

And as he read he wept and trembled; and not being able longer to
contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I
do?"...

The neighbours also came out to see him run; and as he ran, some
mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return.

ATHEIST--

Now, after awhile, they perceived afar off, one coming softly and
alone, all along the highway, to meet them.

--BUNYAN (_The Pilgrim's Progress_).

XI. LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,